


Spin Me

by SashaDistan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Frat Boy Shiro (Voltron), Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28877082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SashaDistan/pseuds/SashaDistan
Summary: It's fall, it's dusk, Keith is happy enough spending time with his best friend.Why the heck does Shiro want to go to a play park?
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 78





	Spin Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoldenTruth813](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/gifts).



> a little bit of fluff i wrote on twitter for the wonderful Janel, just polished up a little and stored here. Just for fun.

“Oh! Here!” Shiro shouts excitedly.

It's a park. 

Keith hasn't been in a play park since he was a kid. He arches an eyebrow at Shiro.

“This is a frat boy thing, isn't it?”

Shiro grins, and somehow cocky looks adorable on him with his white floof falling through his snapback. 

“We're gonna get in trouble,” Keith hisses.

“Pfft!” Shiro ruffles his hair with one massive hand. It is devastating to Keith's heart. “Remind me, why does everyone think you're a bad boy?”

“People should read less into the wearing of a perfectly serviceable leather jacket,” Keith grumbles, folding his arms over his chest.

“And the gloves, Keith.” Shiro reminds him, reaching out with subtly textured polymer fingers to tug at the velcro closure over Keith's bony wrist.

Keith hates to pull away, but he does, just a little. Being in Shiro’s orbit is normal for him now, natural, but having Shiro touch  _and_ look at him simultaneously is still  _a lot_ .

“I like my gloves.”

“I like them too.” Shiro’s voice is low and warm in the space between them, he grin bright as his grey eyes slide from Keith to the play park again.

It’s late, nearly dusk on a fall day, and the park is deserted of children. Shiro hops the fence, because why would a boy with shoulders like that who can bench press two-hundred pounds without breaking a sweat use the gate? Not to be outdone, Keith vaults after him.

The swings are fun for a few minutes, Keith’s bangs fluttering in his own face, but what Shiro is clearly heading for is a silver dish on a asymmetrical stand. He throws himself over it with glee.

“Shiro?” Keith stares at him, the way his hoodie rides up to show off the painted-on thin fabric of his muscle tank beneath. “What the fuck?"

“Spin me!” Shiro cries excitedly.

All six foot four of Shiro's muscles and stupidly bright smile should not fit in the dish, but he looks oddly comfy with his legs spilling out over the rim.  White soled tennis shoes kick at Keith’s shins gently.

“You want me to what?”

“Spin me!” Shiro's smile is soft and sweet now. “Please Keith?”

Not since the first time they met has Keith been able to say ‘no’ to that face. 

“Yes. Alright... Quit with the puppy dog look!” 

Shiro’s pout only gets worse. Bits of Keith thump hotly.

So  Keith takes the edge of the little dish in both hands and spins. Very quickly the purpose of the angled stand becomes obvious, because the centrifugal force created whips Shiro around far faster than Keith was expecting. He leaps backwards out of the  range of Shiro's feet.

Shiro throws his head back and laughs. His snapback falls off, tumbling through the rough grass, silver floof flying everywhere. On each rotation of the dish Shiro’s buoyant smile and creased  up , laughing eyes are lit by the orange light of the sinking sun. He is the most beautiful thing Keith has ever seen.

As the dish slows finally, Shiro jumps out. A spinning man and stationary ground do not a good combination make, and Shiro takes one step forwards before lurching violently to the side. A second step has him crashing into Keith. A third, and Keith cannot support that much sudden, uncontrolled weight.

They fall. 

The ground is soft, and Shiro catches himself on his hands before he crushes Keith fully, but they are still pressed together from knee to sternum. Shiro grins wildly. 

“And he sticks the landing!”

Keith knows he's gone red as his favourite shirt now, he ducks his head to hide behind his messy bangs.

“Sure bud,” Keith jokes, trying to break the hot pang in his chest at Shiro hovering over him, so close and warm and solid. “Good thing you're not a gymnast.”

Keith moves to wriggle out from underneath Shiro, but-

_Oh…_ Shiro's hand is cupping his cheek – and when did Shiro hands become so big exactly? And his face is inches away – eyelashes casting a damn shadow over his cheek they are so long and thick. And Keith can't look away from the shapes  Shiro’s lips make when he speaks. 

“This is definitely the best way to land. Soft _and_ hard.” Shiro presses his hips more firmly into Keith’s own and Keith’s brain short circuits whilst his heart does something fast and twisty in his chest. “And pretty as the stars.”

It's the stupidest, corniest, most pathetically romantic thing Keith has ever heard anybody ever say out loud.

And Shiro said it to him. 

Keith reaches up and wraps his fingers in Shiro’s floof, using the hold to haul Shiro down right into his space. He kisses his best friend hard, before Shiro can say something else embarrassing. He’s flat on his back in a kids playpark as darkness falls and the stars come out, but Keith can’t think of anywhere he would rather be than  _with Shiro_ .

It's perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come chat with us on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SashaDistan)
> 
> This author responds to comments.


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